


Mistakes we knew we were making

by Kyra



Category: New Girl
Genre: Comment Fic, Cunnilingus, Drunkenness, F/M, Fingering, First Time, Laundry, Not Wearing Underwear, Roommates, Sitcom Fic, Smut, Taxis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra/pseuds/Kyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inappropriate laundry room activities, etcetera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act the First: Inappropriate Laundry Room Activities

**Author's Note:**

> Commentfic that got out of hand. Written for the [Nick/Jess First Time Comment Ficathon](http://kyrafic.tumblr.com/post/48945515383/nick-jess-first-time-commentficathon-lets-have). (For which everyone should WRITE SOMETHINGGGG!)
> 
> Unedited, since the whole point was to write something fast and post it. PWP. Set after Bachelorette Party. No spoilers.

**Prologue**

In which Jess is leaning against the back wall of the club, watching Cece and her cousins dance away the night before the wedding, when Nick comes up and stands next to her, close enough she can feel the heat from his body against her bare arm. It's too loud to talk, so she gives him a lopsided smile and he gives her his 'I can't believe this is happening, but what are you going to do?' shrug and then at some point after that the back of his hand brushes against hers and at some point quite soon after that he's slid his hand into hers and laced their fingers together between them, and when she looks up at him he's still watching the dance floor, like nothing's even happening.

She doesn't pull away.

Later, crammed in the backseat of the car of whichever cousin agreed to drive them home, she's sitting bitch, as usual, and they're pressed up together, his side to her side, close enough for her to smell his aftershave and the whiskey on his breath. When he catches her looking at him, she looks away fast. The car makes a turn and she lurches against him -- he's so _solid_ \-- and looks resolutely at her knees.

 

**Act the First**

In which it's the morning of the wedding and she's rushing around half dressed since as the maid of honor she probably shouldn't be late to all the Get Cece Fancified festivities that will be taking up most of the day. She dashes into the laundry room to grab a pair of clean panties from the dryer and almost bumps smack into Nick when she whirls around to dash back out. The laundry room door is swinging shut behind him and he grabs her to steady her, one hand on her elbow and another on her waist and she yelps a little in surprise, then freezes.

"What are you doing??" he says, frowning at her and she holds up the panties crumpled in her hand without thinking.

"I was getting some, um." His eyes go to her hand and then back to her face, eyebrows raised.

"Underwear?" she finishes and watches as Nick swallows hard. His eyes flick down to what she's wearing -- her bridesmaid dress, with the twirly skirt that hits above her knees -- and Jess can feel her face going red. Neither of them says anything and she's all of a sudden having some trouble breathing and oh my god, what is happening.

Because before she can think of anything else to say, Nick's hands are tightening where they're still holding her and he's backing her up until her shoulders bump up against the laundry room wall. He's looming over her, standing so close that she thinks he's going to kiss her (again!), oh god, her lips are tingling and her heart is pounding, but instead he keeps his left hand on her waist and lets the other drop from her elbow to skim the skin on the front of her thigh with his fingertips just where the hem of her skirt is. It's just firm enough not to tickle and she can feel the edge of his nails scrape against her skin and holy schnike this is suddenly the hottest thing that's ever happened to her in her whole life. She breathes in sharply and her skin is tingling everywhere, but very especially between her legs. 

Nick's still watching her and she can't break eye contact and it's like he knows it because he licks his lower lip and slides his thumb under the hem of her skirt, and then the rest of his hand, halfway up her thigh and this time when her breath catches something almost like a whimper slips out. Nick's eyes go darker and like it's given him permission he slides his hand the rest of the way up the outside of her leg 'til his hand is splayed across her hip, where the side of her underwear would very definitely be. If she were wearing any.

Nick's eyes flash like he won something and Jess's stomach twists and oh god, she can *feel* herself getting wet. 

"Pretty risky," he says, his voice all gravelly and low, and she didn't realize 'til now that he hadn't said anything this whole time. "You live with a bunch of men, Jessica."

The way he says her name sends a frisson of electricity up her spine. His thumb is on her hipbone and his fingers are splayed across her waist all the way around to where it starts to turn into her butt and she looks down because it doesn't even seem real but yeah, there's Nick Miller's hand disappearing under her dress, the skirt pooling over his wrist where he has it pushed up so that most of her leg is out in the open. 

Jess swallows hard and lifts her chin.

"Really, Miller? Don't you freeball like half the time?"

She's not sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this: Nick gives her this infuriatingly cocky grin and says, "Try me." 

But he doesn't seem to mean right now because he's sliding his hand back down her leg and she thinks he's going to step away, but no, it's only so he can slide it toward her inner thigh and oh god, brush his knuckles against her _there_ , right between her legs. Thank god he's still got a hand on her waist because her knees almost give out and she lets out a noise that this time is *definitely* a whimper.

And yeah, okay, so they've made out more than once, and she definitely looks at him sometimes across the living room and thinks about the fact that she knows what his tongue feels like in her mouth, or (worse) how easily he lifted her onto the table and how her legs wrapped around him automatically and what it felt like to have him between them, his jeans and his, um, junk pressed all up against her through her tights.

But nobody's *clothes* had ever come off, or anything, and while her clothes (most of them) are still on, this. This is a very new level of everything.

And Nick does it again, his knuckles stroking against her, light and intentional and his eyes are all *over* her face like he's trying to find the answer to some really important question there. And then he presses his knuckle _up_ , right against her, where she's wet and slippery and now it's his turn to breath in sharply, like he just found out something amazing. 

"Nick," she says, and she can't tell if it's a question or a plea for reassurance or a demand to touch her more.

He strokes his fingers up and over her one more time, bringing her slick wetness over her clit, and then -- his jaw clenches and he juts his chin forward like he's deciding something -- and he slides a finger into her, sure and slow and she almost comes right then and there. 

Her mouth drops open and she sucks in a stuttering lungful of air, and it's all she can do to keep even a little quiet and oh my god, he's doing it again, a little more quickly and then, fuck, he's slipping two fingers inside her and she can barely keep herself standing upright and oh god, his fingers are so big. She never realized. He's barely even touched her clit -- they haven't even kissed! -- and she's already way more than halfway to coming, oh god, how does he do this to her?! 

Nick's leaning even closer over her, so close she can feel his breath on her face, and he does something with his fingers, _twists_ them and -- 

"Hey, who's designated driver tonight? Not it!" Schmidt yells from somewhere down the hall and Nick slides his fingers out of her quick as anything and takes a quick step backward away from her.

"Not it either," Winston shouts from the direction of his bedroom and Nick clears his throat and hollers, "Not happening!" without taking his eyes off her.

He takes another step back and turns away, just as Schmidt pushes the door open.

"Jeeeeess," Schmidt grins, leaning against the doorjamb. "Our lovely, sober chauffeur."

"Um, I'm a bridesmaid, I'm *definitely* exempt from being DD," she says, hoping she sounds less shaky than she feels. Nick is rummaging in the hamper in the corner while Schmidt cocks an eyebrow at her.

"If that's true, then I hope you understand your sacred responsibility -- as a drunk bridesmaid -- to get drunk and morose enough to hook up with some random guy you meet in the buffet line."

Over his shoulder she can see Nick look up at her and his face is all unreadable and she can't even deal with any of this.

"Schmidt," she shrieks. "Oh my god!" She pushes out the door past him, underwear still balled up in her hand.

"What?!" Schmidt hollers after her. "It was a joke! Kind of."

And then: "Oh my god, Nicholas, please tell me you're not going to wear an undershirt you just took out of the dirty laundry."

"It's my only white v-neck!" she hears Nick say defensively and she slams her bedroom door on the sound of their arguing and collapses backwards onto her bed.

It's a long time before she can get her breathing to even out, let alone regain enough motor control to actually put on the stupid underwear and sit up and try to be a person again.


	2. Act the Second: Inappropriate Taxi Cab Activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tran would be a killer plus-one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: This goes a/u before Virgins, after Bachelorette Party and First Date. One more chapter to come, don't worry. This commentfic situation has gotten seriously out of control.
> 
> Thanks to blithers for a very helpful beta and ohm-nom-nom for rising to the challenge and writing fic of her own to get me to finish this!
> 
> [Catch up with Chapter 1 here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/777722/chapters/1463549)

So yeah. Apparently he's gone temporarily insane and he can't keep his hands off his roommate. And can't stop immediately freaking out over it afterwards. And this time he has definitely, definitely crossed a line -- like, a can-we-come-back-from-this line, or a this-is-exactly-the-opposite-of-trying-to-woo-someone line, and that makes him feel like maybe he's going to puke, right here during the wedding ceremony, before he's even had a drink. He can't stop imagining how incredibly incredibly awkward it's going to be at home for god knows how many weeks this time.

He's pretty sure *that* never happened at a middle school dance. At least not the kind he went to.

(He couldn't help it, though: the idea of Jess running around the apartment like _that_ , nothing on under her little dress-- and the way her eyes kept flickering to his mouth, the way her breathing got all shallow and quick--)

So blah blah blah wedding and all he can do during the whole thing is stare at Jess like a huge creeper, where she's standing up front, thinking about how the fabric of her skirt -- that skirt she's wearing, right there! -- had felt against his wrist. 

**

He wishes Tran were here. Tran always helps him figure things out. Tran would be a killer plus-one. He should tell Shavy that. No, wait, he should not tell Shavy that. It's possible he's made more-than-slightly-good friends with the open bar. But it's not his fault, open bar is the greatest pair of words in English. And Hindi, probably.

Okay. All right. It's the reception, and he definitely can't focus on any of the actual wedding crap, just his own personal Nick Miller universe of highly-practiced panic and confusion. Thumbs up, buddy. Hittin' 'em out of the park as always. 

On the dance floor, Jess is showing Winston how to do pat-the-dog screw-the-lightbulb and she's laughing and Nick is staring and he can't help it. His drink is empty again. Just gin-flavored ice cubes rattling around in the glass. Jess glances over and he looks away fast. Okay. He sets his glass down on the nearest table with a thud and strides off to the bathroom.

"Get it together, man," he tells his reflection. Which is a little soggy from the water he's splashed on his face. An older Indian man comes out of the stall and gives him a strange look. Nick ignores him, and straightens up. Fixes his tie (ugh, ties) and gives himself a hard look in the mirror. He's going to go out there and have no more than one more drink and check on Schmidt's emotional state (so far: wobbly but holding steady) and then as soon as it's cool he's going to sneak out and go home and be asleep by the time everyone else comes in drunk and he's going to pretend like nothing happened this morning, that he definitely, _definitely_ did not catch Jess in the laundry room with no underwear on and (oh shit) push her up against the wall and finger her. 

Right. He gives himself a quick slap on each cheek for courage (the old guy is giving him the full-on side eye) and heads back out into the loud music of the ballroom.

**

There's confusion about the cabs: people are splitting them and trying to pack more bodies into one than are allowed, and everyone's jumping in and out as they try to coordinate with other guests going in the same direction and that is the true story of how by not paying attention he ends up alone in the back of a cab with Jess. Fuck. 

Nick glares at a spot on his left thumb and listens to Jess yank at the seatbelt several times before muttering about it not working. When he finally looks up she's leaning back against the door on her side of the cab and regarding him steadily. 

"So," she says. She's giving him that _look_ , that inscrutable Jess look. Nick heaves a sigh and scrubs his hands over his face.

"Look," he says. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have -- that was not cool, and I won't. I won't do it again."

She sucks in her lower lip a little and keeps looking at him. Nick huffs out a sigh. His head is swimmy from the booze and Jess' hair is escaping from its fancy updo and she's still wearing that goddamn dress, even though this morning feels like it was several weeks ago. 

Jess hasn't said anything and the yawning silence is making him feel even crappier.

"I don't know what's up with me," he says abruptly. "I'm having. A weird year?" A weird decade, a weird life.

Jess presses her lips together slightly and takes a breath.

"I'll do it," she says. "If you want this to be a thing. I'll do it."

There's a long, strange second when he can feel himself gaping. But.

"If -- what?" he says dumbly.

"A thing, a thing, a, you know-- hooking up," she says, and he can tell she's had more than a couple glasses of wine. "I mean. It's obviously not working for us _not_ to be doing it. So maybe we should just do it." Nick doesn't think he's breathing.

"I know you want me," she adds, and the air in the cab suddenly feels charged, intense. He intentionally doesn't turn his head to see if the cabby is listening.

"And, and -- you know I want you," she says quickly, flushing a little. She takes a breath and her voice goes up to its slightly-exasperated pitch. "I mean-- come on. In the laundry room? And then I'm supposed to, like, do other stuff? When you've got me feeling all wanton woman?" She lifts her chin a little. "So. So let's do this." 

He feels frozen. Because holy shit, this is really happening, but it's nothing at all like he imagined. This is so-- it's so matter-of-fact and that's not the kind of girl Jess _is_. He's lived with the girl for two years, he definitely knows she likes the romance thing. He saw how tough it was for her with Sam and. He's no good at this stuff but he's been _trying,_ okay? She makes him want to try. 

And now she's meeting this head-on, she's got this tired sound in her voice like she's just out of energy and he thinks she might even have the wrong idea entirely.

"Seriously?" she says and he realizes the silence has been stretching out. "Not a great moment to leave a girl hanging, Miller."

Nick can feel himself frowning. 

"Jess. That's not--. I don't--. You shouldn't--."

He opens his mouth to explain things, to say _Jess_ , to say _I don't want **sex** , I want **you**_ , to say _this isn't how this should be happening_. And maybe something about her eyes and her face, about how when she went to Oregon for a visit this summer it was the crappiest, emptiest week he's had in years, how she makes him like doing really incredibly stupid things like going to Target with her and debating the right way to eat string cheese.

How he wants her to be _happy_. (How he wants her.)

"I thought you wanted to know how I feel," he says instead and it comes out even blunter than he expected.

She falters and he sees her resolve face shift into something more like her annoyed face, which is at least comfortingly familiar.

"I thought you didn't want to tell me how you feel," she says and he opens his mouth to deny it, but it is in fact still true. He can't. He feels like he's back out there on that open ledge of the fourth story of the apartment building, too scared to move, regretting climbing out, regretting everything he's ever done that's led up to this. 

So he does what he has these whole messy last few months with her and acts without thinking. Jess is still leaning on the cab door facing him, her legs curled up on the seat between them. Nick hooks a hand behind her bare knee and pulls so she slides across the seat toward him. She lets out a little yelp of surprise that he stops by covering her mouth with his.

Nick's bending over Jess, free hand between her shoulder blades, and she has her hands fisted in the lapels of his suit jacket and oh god, it feels so good, it feels so right, and he doesn't have to think about anything. If it weren't for the whole needing-to-breathe thing he'd never stop kissing her.

But he does. When he pulls back Jess is much closer than before, his hand still around the back of her bare knee, which is now pressed up against the leg of his suit. She's breathing hard and her eyes are wide and her hand is on his thigh somehow, just resting there while she stares at him, her mouth set in a line.

"I can't tell you how I feel!" he says, trying not to shout.

"Why not?!" she says, sounding as frustrated as he feels.

"Because it'll scare you away!" he blurts without thinking and they both go very still. 

Jess' eyes are darting all over his face, wider than ever, and Nick swallows hard.

"Oh," says Jess, very softly.

Nick feels the surge of adrenaline that comes when he very desperately wants something to have not just happened and he has no idea what to do. Their faces are still very close together though, so he does the precise dumbest thing possible and moves to kiss her again.

He leans in slowly and her mouth opens right away. Nick feels her hand, the one that had been on his leg, move to his jaw before sliding up into his hair. This kiss feels different than the last one. Slower and intentional, almost, and he can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

Jess makes a little sound against him and it's like it triggers something for both of them because suddenly it's not slow at all anymore and his tongue is in her mouth and he's leaning her backwards, down onto the seat, moving so he's hovering over her and--

The cab lurches to a halt.

"All right," says the cab driver. "Out. That's enough. None of that in here."

Jess' eyes go wide like she just remembered where they were and she pushes Nick back far enough to scramble out from under him, so she's sitting upright on her side of the cab.

After that there's quite a bit of arguing. (Jess thinks she can sweet talk a cabbie! Unbelievable. Personally, Nick thinks they're paying for this ride and the guy should mind his own damn business, which he says. It doesn't go over well.) The whole thing ultimately ends with the cabbie agreeing to let Jess stay if Nick gets out.

"Fine," he says, starting to open the door.

"No!" Jess says. "If you're getting out, I am too."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jess," he says and god, he's suddenly so _tired_. "You can't walk home in those shoes. It's only like a mile, I'll be fine."

He gets out and slams the car door before she can say anything else. His heart is still pounding from arguing and the cabbie gets his best _you son of a bitch_ glare through the window. Which is only minimally satisfying, given that the guy glares back and peels away. 

It's one of those cool-but-humid LA nights, when the air feels thick and damp. Nick watches the taxi's tail lights recede until it turns a corner and disappears. Then he shoves his hands in his pockets and starts walking home.


	3. Act the Third: Very Appropriate Bedroom Activities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He almost can't breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we conclude the world's most out-of-control commentfic. This is so gratuitously smutty I'm almost embarrassed to post it. But the people want what they want? I give that I might inspire others to give similarly? It's going to be a long summer.
> 
> (Reminder: This goes a/u before Virgins, after Bachelorette Party and First Date.)

When he lets himself into the apartment it's quiet and dim, only the hall light on. There's no sign of Jess and her bedroom door is closed and he can't tell if that makes him feel relieved or disappointed.

It's been a long fucking day. He kicks off his shoes, drops his jacket on the back of the couch and unknots his tie on the way to the kitchen.

His brain's the kind of tired where it's just shut down entirely. Too much to process, system failure, the tomorrow version of Nick is going to have to deal with the fallout from all of today's stupidity. Tonight he's just going to pour himself a mug of tap water as a half-hearted attempt to prevent a hangover and lean against the counter and drink it in the dark.

Actually he's glad Jess wasn't waiting up for him, full of questions he can't answer about things he doesn't want to talk about, waiting with her mad face or her sad face or something worse.

He just wants this to be over, one way or another. The game isn't fun anymore. He doesn't know what to do to make things go right again. He's so tired of being tired.

**

Nick is sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, forehead in one hand, scrolling through the increasingly confusing set of text messages Schmidt's been sending him, when he realizes Jess isn't asleep after all.

"Knock knock," she says softly and when he looks up she's standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the hall light. She's still got her bridesmaid dress on but she's barefoot and she's taken down her hair.

"Hey," he says, and then can't think of anything to follow it with. Just looks at her and she looks back, eight feet of air and confusing weird feelings between them.

Jess breaks the silence first.

"Can you help me unzip my dress?" she says and her voice comes out a little shaky. She's got one hand on the doorjamb and she's tucking her hair behind her ear with the other, her nervous tic. He swallows hard. 

"Sure," he says, setting his phone down. She steps inside and (oh) shuts the door behind her so the only light left in the room is the soft glow from the lamp on his bedtable. (Sidewalk trash day find! People throw out the craziest things.)

Everything feels slowed down and weirdly detailed. He sees her quick glance down as she walks toward him to check the floor for rubble since she knows him and his room.

Jess sits down on the edge of the bed, half sideways so her back is to him, and pulls her hair over her shoulder to get it out of the way.

The zipper pull is just below the nape of her neck and this close he can smell her: hairspray and toothpaste and a little bit of sweat. He watches his hand reach out like it's someone else's and pulls the zipper slowly all the way down to the small of her back. The fabric separates and god, so much skin, her back all smooth and bare and uninterrupted except for the dark horizontal strap of her bra.

"There you go," he says and his voice sounds strange even to him.

"Thanks," she says, but doesn't stand up to leave. Instead she glances at him over her shoulder and gives him this _look_ , half vulnerable, half challenging. It says _here I am_. It says _what are you going to do with me?_

And, well, shit. Of course he kisses her.

With his hands on either side of her face, fingers tangling in her hair, just like he keeps imagining, and right away it's intense and terrifying and exhilarating all at once, just like each of the last times.

Jess twists toward him and kisses him back, focused and determined, and he groans a little as her mouth opens against his. That's Jess' _tongue_ and these are her hands sliding across his chest and down his sides and around to where his button down is untucked and she slips a hand under it to press against the skin of his back.

Nick doesn't even think, just pulls her onto his lap so she's straddling him and she breaks the kiss to gasp. There's a tiny moment where they're both just looking at each other, and then she gives him this wicked grin, so Jess it hurts, and grinds _down_ , her crotch all warm against the pretty serious erection he's already sporting.

"Shit," Nick says, and she laughs, a laugh which turns into a yelp when he flips them both over, pinning her down on the bed under him and oh god, how he's wanted to feel this: her whole body stretched out against his, her knee hooking around the back of his leg. He can see her pulse going quick in her throat and he looks at her lips then back up at her eyes. And the thing is he really has no idea what the hell he's doing (not, like, in bed in general -- just with her, across the board) -- it's like this other guy takes over and does these crazy, intense things like grab her and kiss her. Or get to third base in the laundry room. And now he has to follow through.

So he does. Leans down and kisses her hard, reaching both hands down to lace his fingers with hers while he does. He brings their joined hands up so they're over her head against the pillow and moves to her neck, nipping a line from her jaw to her shoulder. Jess makes breathy little sounds as he does, each a different pitch and god, that could get addicting.

But he has other plans now.

"Stand up," he says, sitting up so she's not pinned underneath him anymore. Jess blinks up at him in surprise for a second before slipping off the bed. He slides to sit on the edge of the bed and takes her by the hips, turning her so she's standing in front of him, their knees almost touching.

Her dress is still unzipped and he reaches out and slides the straps down over her shoulders and slips the rest of it down her body. It pools on the floor around her ankles and Jess keeps her eyes on his as she steps out of it and kicks it aside.

Her bra is pink, with a little bow in the middle, and her underwear has yellow stripes, and everything in between is just-- Nick puts a hand on her lower back and draws her in 'til she's standing between his legs and he can lean in and kiss the top of one breast.

Jess hasn't broken eye contact and when he opens his mouth again his voice sounds like someone else's.

"Take off your bra," he says, and she sucks in a breath. This time she doesn't pause though, just reaches behind her and unhooks the clasp and drops it on the floor.

If this is a dream it's the best one he's ever had in his life. Her breasts are basically right at face level, still perky, even better than he thought he remembered them. He brushes his thumb over one pale nipple, watching it harden, and then leans in and covers it with his mouth. Jess gasps and brings her hands up to tangle in his hair. He rolls his tongue over it and sucks, just enough to make her moan, and brings a hand up to cup her other breast just in case it's feeling left out. It fits perfectly in his palm and she presses into him and he squeezes and she tightens her fingers against his scalp.

He could do this for a while, and he does, moving his mouth between her breasts, until Jess pushes back on his shoulders and he looks up at her questioningly.

"Hey mister," she says. "Why so many clothes?"

Nick has probably never gotten undressed so fast in his life. Jess laughs as he fumbles with the buttons on his white shirt, whips his undershirt off and flings it across the room -- he grins back at her -- and stands to get rid of his pants.

And then, well. Yeah. He sure is naked. 

He sees Jess flick her eyes down and then look back up at his face fast, like she just realized he might notice her looking. She's blushing a little, standing there in nothing but her underwear, sneaking peeks at his cock and he can't stand it.

"Come here," he growls, pulling her back onto the bed and shoving the covers out from under them at the same time. She lands on top of him, bare breasts pressed against his chest, face close to his.

He kisses her again, slower this time, his hand cradling her jaw, holding her in place so he can explore her mouth. He doesn't realize what she's doing 'til he feels the cool of her hand slide over the head of his cock and he groans into her mouth because yes yes yes, he needs to be touched so much. Her hand keeps going, sliding down to the base of his dick, cupping his balls, one knuckle pressing on a spot right behind them that makes him say her name and some swear words all in a jumbled rush. He has to stop her or this is going to be a very short carnival ride. 

"Wait," he says, and rolls them over so she's on her back again. He's kneeling up between her legs, and she's lying there looking up at him, eyes wide.

Nick swallows and hooks his fingers in the cotton sides of her panties. She lifts her ass off the bed so he can slip them down her legs and off her ankles and throw them on the floor and then she's naked. 

He knows exactly what he wants to do. He doesn't let himself stop to think: just slides his way down her body, down the bed, pausing just to kiss her hipbone, 'til he's lying on his stomach. Jess breathes in sharply and he reaches out and spreads her legs. He almost can't believe it when her thighs fall open with no resistance and he tears his eyes away from what's between them to look up at her face. She's staring at him and biting her lip and he keeps his eyes on her as he leans in and touches her with his tongue.

The noise she makes is obscene and amazing, her hips jerking up, and he brings his hands up to hold them in place when he does it again. 

And fuck, he loves this. Loves doing this to any girl, has always loved it, but this is _Jess_ he's got his mouth on, Jess he's tasting, and it's so much better-- he closes his eyes and traces his tongue up through her folds, then back down to her entrance. She's even wetter than she was in the laundry room (god, what a discovery that was) and she tastes like his fingers smelled all morning, that salty tang.

She's squirming now, making these amazing breathy sounds, and Nick is probably as hard as he's ever been. He lifts his head to watch her face when he slides the first finger inside her and he can feel her tighten around him as she hisses, spreading her legs even wider. Damn. 

He lowers his mouth back to her clit and she's babbling, a steady stream of _oh god_ and _Nick_ and _um wow_ s and, when he adds a second finger, _holy moses_. He laughs at that one, mouth still against her, and Jess laughs too, a laugh that turns into another moan and Nick closes his eyes and uses his fingers and tongue the best way he knows how. He feels the press of her heel in the small of his back and he uses his free hand to push her other thigh down, opening her up to him even more. She's making these high pitched little noises all strung together in a row and then, oh fuck, she makes a surprised sound and comes, pressing into his mouth.

Nick keeps going while she clenches and shakes around him and only stops when she does, her legs going loose around him. He eases his fingers out of her and swipes the back of a hand across his mouth while he looks up at her. Jess's face and chest are flushed all over and she's breathing hard and he knows the grin he gives her is totally cocky but he can't help it. If you're good at something, you know it. Jess sees it too and rolls her eyes at him even while she's reaching down to tangle her fingers in his hair.

He lets her pull him back up her body (so much smooth skin) and she turns her head to kiss him again, mouth opening to his and he's sure she can taste herself and the fact that she likes it or doesn't care is so damn hot--.

He rests his forehead on hers when they stop and she's still breathing hard, he can feel her chest rising and falling against him. He's so hard he can feel the head of his dick bumping against his stomach and Jess traces her nails up the skin of his back and he has to close his eyes, this is so -- _everything_.

"God," says Jess. "I want-- do you have a, um--"

"Yeah," he says and slides halfway off of her so he can lean over the side of the bed and grab the shoebox there. He keeps his legs tangled with hers while he rummages in it for a condom and bottle of lube (hero of the kinda-well endowed!), then sits back on his heels while he rips the wrapper open.

He flashes an awkward grin at Jess while he eases the condom on and makes quick work with the lube. She's watching him with dark eyes, her hair all splayed against his pillow, her breasts bare and he almost can't breathe, can't believe he's getting to live inside this moment right now.

He's back between her legs as quick as he can be, kneeling over her and leaning in to kiss her again and tweak one of her nipples. She slides a hand up the back of his neck and he brings his fingers back down to her clit. Jess whimpers and tilts her pelvis up and wraps her legs around his, rolling her hips a little.

"Yeah," he says. "That's right. Just like that," and her eyes come open to look up at him. He slips a finger back inside just to watch her reaction again. It doesn't disappoint and he works a second finger in, making sure she's loosened up for him.

"You thought about this," she says breathlessly, like she likes the idea, and he's got no filter at all right now.

"Yeah," he says. "I've thought about having you here. In my bed like this. Nothing on."

Jess groans hard and arches up against him, her eyes fluttering shut. 

"I'd hear you," he says as she reaches down between them and wraps her hand around him again. "When you were with -- someone." Jess strokes him smoothly once, twice. "Imagine what they were doing to you when-- shit," his hips buck involuntarily into her hand and telling her this is turning him on so much. 

He slides his fingers out of her and wraps them around her wrist, stilling her hand on his cock. He looks at her hard and her mouth is a little open, her pupils large. "Think about what I wanted to do to you," he finishes. It must be the right thing to say because Jess sucks in a sharp breath and then kisses him _hard_ , messy and wet, their teeth knocking together a little.

Nick's still holding her wrist and he brings it up, pins it beside her head on the pillow. She leaves it there when he lets go and Nick takes his cock in his hand and brushes the head of it against her, right between her legs. Jess whimpers and squirms under him and fuck, he can't believe he's seeing her like this. Doing this to her.

"Oh god," she's saying, her eyes shut again and then she opens them and looks right at him.

"Nick," she says, and it's helpless and frustrated and private all at once. He feels tight in his chest. Is this what a heart attack feels like?

She says his name again, almost a sob.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, Jess, it's me."

"Please," she says, like something straight out of one of his goddamn fantasies and he can't help it, he grins right at her, and her breath catches and she grins back and starts laughing, like she's just noticed how crazy and ridiculous and amazing this whole thing is, what they both sound like. Nick can't help it, he laughs too. For a second it's just them like they've always been, chuckling at each other, and he barely has to shift to get the angle right so he can start slowly sliding into her.

Her laugh cuts off, turns into a moan and god, fuck, _yes_ , that's a sound he wants to always hear. And this is something he wants to always feel: how hot and tight she is around him, her skin touching his skin everywhere. Her head tilts back against the pillow and her eyes flutter shut but then she opens them again and she's _looking_ at him, so intensely, mouth dropped open a bit while he finishes pushing all the way into her.

She gives this tiny little gasp when he gets there and he holds as still as he can.

"All right?" he says and god he hopes she says yes.

"Yes," she says, "god, yes yes yes," and he lets out a breath and lets his hips move.

He goes as slow as he can, which is not very, and Jess's eyes are _huge_ and he can't look away, can't stop watching her while he's doing this to her, while he's feeling her like this, and she must feel the same because she keeps looking back, even while he speeds up, and she starts to let out a string of moans and jumbled phrases. 

For a girl who has to be strong-armed into using the names of any body parts below the waist, she talks a surprising amount in bed. (Yeah, he'll admit it, that's definitely on the list of things he's wondered about.) It's a stream of out-of-date exclamations and pleas and his name all coming out in a rush and he'd probably be laughing at some of them (he almost definitely hears a _yeah, mister_ in there) if every particle of his brain weren't focused on how amazing this feels, how all he wants to do is keep thrusting into her like this, feeling how tight and hot she is around him.

He's going faster now and he shifts his rhythm, pulling back a little bit to look at her. Jess works a hand between them so she can touch herself. She rubs in slow circles, her knuckles brushing against him, then faster, and god, he could watch her like this forever.

He leans in and kisses her, wet and messy and long, because he can. When he finally stops, Jess gasps into his mouth.

"Please," she says. "I can-- harder." It sends a jolt of electricity up his spine.

Her legs are hooked around his waist (when did that happen?) and Nick reaches behind him for one of her calves. He bends her leg so her knee is up against her chest, pinned between them, shifting the angle so he can press into her deeper.

Jess hisses as he starts driving into her harder and he says "okay?" without pausing.

"Yes," she says, "yes, yes, don't stop, god."

His movements are getting all jerky and messy now and he doesn't know how much longer he can last. With one elbow braced on the bed to hold himself up, he slips his other hand behind Jess's neck, working his fingers into the tangle of hair at the base of her skull. Jess is rubbing herself faster now, eyes closed, and breath coming fast.

"God," he says. "Jessica-- fuck." She opens her eyes to look at him and with the hand in her hair he _tugs_ , once, sharply. And apparently he was dead on with that private bet because she lets out a moan and comes.

He can feel her clenching around him as she does and he keeps fucking her through it, 'til the noises she's making go high and breathy, and only stops as she catches her breath and opens her eyes again.

"Nice," he says, and he can't stop smiling and she gives an exhausted little laugh. Then her expression shifts -- she's got her scheming face on -- and she pushes at his shoulder.

"Switch," she says, and he swallows hard and rolls off of her when he realizes what she means.

He's barely on his back when she straddles him and reaches down and oh -- takes his cock in her hand and oh -- she's moving it to her entrance and sinking down on it, taking him in. He can feel his eyes roll back in his head a little. She's still so wet; she slides down smoothly, eyes closed in concentration, and only hesitates a little toward the end. But then she goes the rest of the way, settling against him, and it feels like they're touching _everywhere_ , his hips between her thighs, his pelvis pressing up between her legs.

"God, Jess," he says in a choked voice, and brings his hands up to her waist. She opens her eyes and _smiles_ , this delighted, wicked, beaming grin, and then she starts moving. Slowly at first and then quicker as she settles into the rhythm of it, lifting herself off him and driving back down. After a minute she leans forward so the angle shifts, and her breasts are brushing against his chest, and her hair is falling down around them, and every single part of this is so completely perfect right now. 

Nick slides his hands down to grip her hips (hard, he can't help it) and sets up a matching rhythm, driving up into her, feet braced on the bed. It only takes a minute. He says "fuck--" and he says "Jess--" and he comes harder than he ever has in his life.

**

When he ebbs back into reality, Jess is collapsed on top of him, breathing almost as hard as he is, their skin sticking together everywhere. _Jess_ , Jess is -- they just -- Nick lets out a long, shuddering breath and Jess lifts her head off his chest to look at him.

She looks amazing, lips all swollen, face flushed and sweaty, hair everywhere, eyes as wide as his feel. He can't help it, something bubbles up inside him and before he knows it he's laughing. He's so full of endorphins and he can't really believe this happened and he feels wild and happy and overwhelmed.

Jess starts laughing too, and _oh,_ he's still inside her, his dick softening, and he can _feel_ it, her laugh reverberating through her muscles and around him, like he's inside of it, like there's no space between them at all.

**

She slips out of bed and makes a dash for the bathroom while he's turned away dealing with the condom, so he doesn't see what she's wearing 'til she comes back in. It's one of his shirts, which she must have scooped off the floor on her way and it's barely decent on her and it looks amazing. Even now his cock twitches at all that leg. And the idea that she has nothing on under there.

Jess hesitates, looks down at herself then back at him, where he's sitting up in bed.

"Is this okay?" she says. "I thought--"

"C'mere," he says, reaching out, and she slides onto the bed, kneeling next to him. He slides a hand across her jaw and kisses her, as slow and sweet as he knows how. Jess sighs into it, relaxing against him. She brings her arms up to rest on his shoulders and he slips a hand down to her bare thigh and up under the hem of the shirt to squeeze her ass. God, he's wanted to do that for so fucking long. Jess breaks off the kiss with a surprised laugh.

"You look hot as hell and you know it," he growls against her lips and she giggles, resting her forehead on his.

A wave of exhaustion rolls over Nick. He can't even imagine what time it is, how many hours he's been up, how many weddings he's been to.

"Sleep," he says. "Sleep now." He tugs at the shirt hem. "Take this off, come to sleep."

He slips out of her arms and slides down to lie flat in bed, eyes already at half mast. Jess hesitates for a second, then pulls the shirt over her head, tossing it behind her. 

She's all creamy curves in the lamplight, kneeling up over him, looking shy and open at once. It makes him feel like he can't breathe all over again. Like he wants to say things he doesn't even have words for.

Instead he reaches out and tugs her toward him, 'til she's lying on her side with her head on his shoulder. He's still naked and she's curled around him, one knee over his thigh, her hand resting against his ribcage. His arm's around her, hand on the curve of her waist and he can just reach with his free hand to turn out the lamp.

In the darkness, it feels like Christmas Eve when he was a little kid, when he'd try not to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss anything at all. He used to wake up early the next morning, before Jamie or his parents, and lie in bed feeling the bubble of excitement in his chest, thinking about all the awesome things he might be about to get. He falls asleep like that, listening to Jess breathe, feeling her chest rise and fall against him.


End file.
